


Proposal of Murder

by m4dh4tteywrites, mrgoldsdearie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marriage, Murder, Nygmobblepot, Romance, Sex, Sex in blood, Smut, Wedding, ed x oswald, m/m - Freeform, murder smut, non-consensual grinding, proposal, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9433718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4dh4tteywrites/pseuds/m4dh4tteywrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Edward finally decides to pop the question after bringing Oswald on a trip down memory lane.





	

Edward Nygma has mentally prepared himself for this day for weeks, battling back and forth with himself on whether or not it's the perfect time to pull this off, but he believes he can finally overcome his fears. Today is the day he’ll take a huge step forward in his relationship with Oswald Cobblepot. Today is the day he proposes that the Penguin be his partner in life.

While it had taken weeks for Edward to prepare, he didn’t make plans to perform anything too elaborate. He didn’t get a live band or an orchestrator to sweep Oswald off his feet with a symphony of forbidden love. Instead, he wanted this to be all him and the solid white gold band he’s had hidden in his room for days. Edward wanted Oswald to just see him, only him, and know that his love for him was truly something to be astounded by. Though he had always been bad at communicating, today he wanted to try his best to make Oswald feel more wanted than he had ever felt before.

Edward stands in the bathroom, adjoined to his bedroom, and pushes his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose with a shaky right hand, then straightens his green tie in the mirror.

It was now or never.

He sighs nervously, his breath showing against the reflection in the glass.  _ “Marry me, Oswald,” _ he thought to himself, running a hand anxiously through his hair. “I love you and I want to show you how much by spending the rest of my life with you,” he says under his breath, thinking that his words might read as desperation.

Maybe he shouldn’t practice what to say? Maybe he should let the moment flow naturally and say only what's on his mind? Maybe he should back out and forget he ever thought of proposing?

“Ugh!,” he grunts, crashing a closed fist down upon the sink, shaking the doubtful thoughts out of his mind. “I’m going to do it,” he boldly convinces himself. There’s no way this day will end without him asking his lover one of the most important questions of their lives. He turns away from the mirror, takes another deep breath, and finally steps out of the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Edward sees Olga spraying the windows in the front corridor of the mansion, wiping them down with a white cotton cloth. He marches over, still mindlessly twisting the ring box in the left pocket of his suit jacket. “Did Oswald leave?”, he asks her, removing his hand from the pocket, standing perpendicular with both hands folded behind his back.

She gives him a glance of displeasure. “Last minute call” she states flatly, her thick accent showing through clearly. The woman never liked Mr. Nygma and could never understand why Oswald was fond of such a cold fish.

Edward squints, tipping his head inquisitively to the left. “For what?”

Olga doesn't respond and slithers over to the next window to continue the cleaning, rolling her eyes with judgment.

Edward replies with a snarky eye roll of his own, dipping his hand into the breast pocket of his jacket, removing his flip phone. He dials the number to his boyfriend and is greatly relieved when Oswald answers.

“Ed?”, Oswald says, nearly surprised on the other line.  

“Where are you, Oswald?” Edward asks, doing his best to mask the panic in his voice.

“Are you seriously worried about me leaving?”

Edward had been too busy being anxious about the proposal, he didn’t stop to think about the Penguin being mayor of Gotham that suddenly hurrying out to city hall is a major part of the job description. “No… No… I wasn't worried at all,” he lies.

“Okay, well, I have to publicly address the shooting that went down in the art district. So I’m gonna be gone for a few hours. Everyone keeps saying it was Jerome Valeska….. Fucking amateur,” he huffs the last bit under his breath.

Edward scoffed, “Of course they do.” He wouldn't be surprised if it was that giggly clown boy. “Oh, hey, Oswald?”, he swiftly adds, knowing the mayor is in a rush.

“Yes, Edward?”

Edward smirked. The tone of Oswald's voice shot volts down his spine. It wasn't in a tone that was in any way seductive or alluring. It was just the sound of his lover answering back and hearing that voice made his heart dance. He hopes to be able to hear it for the rest of his life. “After your interview—” he switches the phone from the right ear to the left— “I would like you to meet me somewhere.”

“And where’s that?” Oswald asks.

Edward could hear the anxiety in his boyfriend’s voice. Though he was trying his best not to sound hopeless or alarming, he couldn’t help it. He was nervous. Edward Nygma was not used to being apprehensive. “My old apartment,” he gulps after speaking the words. Maybe Oswald will find this request too out of the ordinary to agree to? He believed not. Edward hadn’t originally planned this part out, but the words flew from his lips naturally and he had to stand by them. It was the first place he thought of going, of course. The place where he and Oswald had become friends, even closer than normal friends. What other place would be perfect for asking his boyfriend to join him in marriage?

“Your -- your old apartment — ” Oswald falls silent for a fraction of a second — “but, why?”

“You’ll see.” The Riddler waited for a moment just in case Oswald wanted to ask more. He could tell his little bird was suspicious of the request, but he never chirped another word. Maybe his suspicions could be more like curiosity? “When will you be off?”, Edward adds.

“Around 6,” Oswald muttered. He sounded as though he was going to question Edward further, but the Riddler quickly responded, unaware that Oswald did, in fact, have more to say.

“See you then.” A skittish chuckle escapes Edward’s lips before closing the phone and putting it back into his pocket. Edward now has a few preparations to make. This wasn’t exactly the path he had been planning to take today. Yet, theses are the card he was dealt and now he wants the proposal to take place at his old apartment.

He wanted it to be that place. Their place. That special place where they killed someone together for the first time. Where they sang together and played the piano. Where they grew closer than two people could ever grow. He hoped that someday soon that they could sing there together, with Oswald as his husband.

 

* * *

Later that evening, Edward waits, sitting on the edge of the bed in his old loft, air filling with the fresh aroma of Chinese take out. He thought a little trip down memory lane would help warm him up to popping the big question. He watches the hand on the coo-coo-clock tick ever so slightly closer to the six, his own hands sweating with anticipation. Just as he goes to wipe his palm on his pants, the heavy metal door to the loft slides open.

It’s him. It’s finally him. The love of Edward’s life.

Oswald Cobblepot enters the apartment and froze in place, scanning his eyes around the room.

_ “What could be wrong?” _ Edward thought, watching his beloved’s scrutinizing glare. Does he know of the Riddle-man’s intentions? What is he trying to figure out?

Oswald's expressions abruptly soften and he starts to chuckle, lowering his soaked umbrella. “I didn’t know you still owned this apartment.” He beams at Edward, a rush of nostalgia coursing through his veins. “Ha!—” he leans the umbrella against the wall— “it looks exactly the same!”

Edward relaxes and allows himself to grin, seeing the smile on Oswald's face was all he needed. “Well most of my stuff was moved to storage—” he stands from the bed and slides the metal door shut behind Oswald— “so I had to put some things back. A lot of this stuff was just collecting dust and I had to clean when I got here.” He steps before Oswald, taking his hand. “I figured with us being constantly in the mansion, this would be a more relaxing change.” Edward didn’t want to mention he managed to do everything in a little under 3 hours. He kept that bit to himself.  

Oswald marveled at all of what Edward had accomplished. He completed this loft just for them to send one night behind its walls. “You assumed right.” He slightly tightens his grip around Edward's hand. “God, I can practically hear Leonard in the closet—” his eyes broaden, as a faintly familiar scent kisses his nose— “and smell the takeout.”

“There is takeout,” Edward reveals, gesturing towards the food laid out on the table.

Oswald rose an eyebrow and a gasp of astonishment seeped from his lips. “What’s the occasion, Mr. Nygma?”

The Riddler bites his bottom lip, slipping behind his lover to help remove his glittery purple jacket. “A vacation—” leans into Oswald, sliding the coat off of his shoulders—  “a trip down memory lane,” whispers in the shell of his ear, lightly brushing his nose against his fair flesh.

“Is that the only occasion?” Oswald asks with a sly grin, turning around to face his boyfriend and snakes his hands up Edward's chest.

Edward couldn't help but smirk when Oswald pulls him down unexpectedly by the lapels of his suit. “Feisty are we?”, he drawled and kisses his boyfriend softly on the forehead, but keeping him at a distance for now. He wasn’t expecting such an upfront display of affection from Mr. Cobblepot. Usually, Oswald came back from city business, worn out and barely able to stand.

“This meeting was a lot of sitting and lecturing,” Oswald explained. “I was bored out of my mind, and thinking of you the whole time. This loft and your handsome face were a nice surprise to come back to.” He winks and pulls away from Edward heading over to the takeout on the small round table. “Mmm… This is truly a lovely set up, Ed.” Oswald ran a finger across the dining table. “Sometimes I forget about our first moments together.”

Edward smiles warmly at him, meeting his boyfriend at the table. “This isn’t the whole surprise.”

“It’s not?”, Oswald asked, anxious, yet a little suspicious to what could possibly be more to come.

“No, not in the slightest, my love.” Edward boops Oswald on the tip of his pointed nose and turns to the small closet by the dining table. He opens the door and rolls out a chair occupied with a taped down man with a burlap sack covering his head. “This was kinda—” he circles the chair around to present the man to Oswald— “spur of the moment, but I knew you would appreciate the attention to detail.” He smirks, leaning on the tied up man’s shoulder. “Tada!” Such a showmen.

Oswald’s eyes glisten with amazement. “Edward…..”, he mutters, choked up a little with unexpected emotions. He falls speechless for a moment, starting at the offering laid before him.

The man in the chair even has his shoelaces tied together. Edward remembered how they tied Leonard’s laces and chased him around the room. Every hopeful thought running through his mind of coming out of that situation died with each ounce of his dignity.

Oswald shakes the memories of that adrenaline fuelled night out of his head and grins at his riddle-man. “Edward -- won’t we get. Umm...”

“Oh!—” he stands up straight from the tied man’s shoulder— “Do you need a different suit, my love? You know I still have a few of your things here. I can get you something else to wear.”

Oswald shakes his head no, faintly blushing. Edward is such a gentlemen. “No. Umm… I’m -- I’m fine, it’s just that… Well...” He gestures over to the food on the table. It would be a shame to kill on an empty stomach. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Edward’s eyes widened, completely understanding Oswald's needs. “Oh—” he nods— “of course! We have all the time in the world!” He slides the guy back into the closet with haste, scurries up to Oswald and removes the 9 millimeter from the Penguin’s front hustler. He's done this act many times and Oswald allows him to remove his gun without ever batting an eye as to what he'll do with it. Edward then steps back to the unsuspecting man in the closet, raises the gun above his head and crashes it down, pistol whipping the tied man into unconsciousness. Edward didn't want to hear his moaning and weeping as they enjoy their meal together, and when he surprises Oswald by asking him for his hand in marriage. “There…. That's better,” he sighs in relief and turns back to his little bird.

“That was intensely sexy.” Oswald limps over to Edward, as he closes the closet door, and gives the taller man a peck on the lips. “I promise—” kisses him again— “we’re gonna have lots of fun with? Umm...”

Edward shrugs, oblivious to the knowledge of the victim's name, “I don’t know who it is.” He had done all of his preparations on a whim. He didn't have time for technicalities like names.

Oswald bursts out in a gleeful laugh, “Oh, my God, Ed.”

Nygma’s cheeks flushed. He usually never forgets to learn details like a name, but he was so anxious during the preparations that it had slipped his mind. “Anyway, Mr. Mayor.” Edward hands Oswald back his gun and glides into the kitchen to pour them both a glass of white wine, as the little bird claims a seat at the table.

Edward reaches for the laboratory beakers he uses as wine glasses, but hesitates with jittery hands, locking his eyes on the black silk covered ring box resting on the windowsill. Is he really going to do this?

“Edward?” Oswald calls softly, asking him back to the table.

“I'm coming.” He quickly slips the ring box into his pocket.  _ “Not quite yet. Now is not the time,” _ he thought, as he carries the wine and beakers over and rests them down in front of Oswald. He gazes at his lover, having a sudden urge to kiss his little bird. So he did.

The Riddler grabs Oswald passionately by his cheeks dragging him in to press their lips together. He runs his hands up through his jet black hair as he kisses harder.  _ “This is the last we’d kiss before we were engaged tonight,” _ he thought, feeling Oswald submit to his touch.

The little bird makes a small noise in surprise as Edward’s tongue flicks against his lips, a redness spreading over his cheeks in an instant. Edward then pulls away, as fast as he drew in, leaving his partner breathless. “Ed—” Oswald blinks— “ _ goodness _ . What was that about?”

“I don’t know,” Edward replies, just as breathless as Oswald, running his thumb across his pouty bottom lip. He made his move as an act of love. He didn’t really think Oswald would question it.

“Yes, I think you do. You’re never like this, Ed. There’s always a reason behind the things you do. And you only kiss me like that, aside from sex”— rolls his eyes nonchalantly—  “when you want to tell me something.”

“What?” Edward’s eyes fly open, cheeks blushing crimson, alarmed as to where this is all headed. He never only kisses him like that when he wants something. Oswald’s emotions are off. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re the one being ridiculous—” Oswald stands from the table— “thinking that I don’t know you,” he huffs. He thinks he’s finally figured it all out. There were a few things he's been questioning since the call in the limo. The apartment, now the Lennard 2, and the Chinese food? This whole charade is just a facade to break his heart in the cruelest way. Edward has played with him before, why wouldn't he do it again? How could he have been so stupid to believe something as good as their relationship right now would be something that could last forever? “So, what is it, Ed!?” he snaps, crashing a closed fist down upon the table, causing the glasses to rattle. “You’ve found someone else!?”

“Wait….. What?”, Edward gawks back at his love, pushing the glasses up on his nose, utterly confused. “No! It's nothing like that,” he confesses. “I have something to tell you. Something extremely important.”

Oswald winced in pain, looking more hurt than before. Hurt because he's the one in the wrong. He had used similar words when attempting to confess his love to Edward for the first time. “Wait a second... I -- I didn’t mean to…. Edward…. I….”

Edward falls to his knees to the floor, wanting to die. The damage was already done. He’d hurt Oswald when this was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives, aside from the wedding, but how could he have ever allowed this to happen? He’s a mess when it comes to feelings and he never took into consideration of what they've done to each other in the past. Or what’s been done to them. All of the slurs against them from various people in the city, my god, the GCPD. What was really going through Oswald’s mind? Did he think he was being played like a chess piece?

Edward suddenly feels arms engulf around his body and he flinches, didn't expect to be touched after how he made Oswald feel.

After a few minutes of shushing the Riddler’s faint whimpering and soothingly caressing his back, Oswald finally apologizes. “Ed, my dear friend, I’m so sorry. I’m such a… Well… You know I can be thick headed at times. You weren't trying to hurt me at all and I see that now. What did you want to tell me?”

Edward lifts his head from the Penguin’s shoulder and places his hands on his cheeks, kissing him lightly. He longs lovingly into his shimmering ocean blues and decides to just go for it, not holding anything back. “Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot.” He takes a deep breath, heart hammering in his narrow chest, palms sweating against his lover's cheek. “Will you marry me?”

As Edward goes to pull out the ring from his pocket, Oswald sits frozen with streaming tears in his eyes. “W-w-why?”, he stammers.

“Because I love you,” Edward whispers, hands quivering pathetically as he held the ring box up for Oswald to see. “Because I want you to know how much I love you every second of every day for the rest of our lives.” The Riddler hadn’t expected his words to sound as sappy as they came out, but they did. He opens the box and presents the white gold band to his beloved boyfriend.

Oswald takes in a sharp breath, not believing what’s happening. The ring is absolutely gorgeous, but it can't possibly truly be for him. “You -- you couldn’t.”

Edward faltered, tipping his head to the right. “I couldn’t what, my love?”

“You couldn’t want to marry me.” Oswald’s tears multiplied and he covered his face to mask his sobs. “Why would you want to marry me?”, he mutters in his hands.

“Oswald? What are you talking about?” Edward’s heart aches with such dismay by Oswald’s doubt filled words. The Riddler rests the ring upon the table before grasping both of his lover’s hands, feeling those fingers quiver underneath the warmth. “Of course I want to marry you. I can’t -- can't imagine life without you. My friend. My lover. My dear, dear Oswald…. I want to grow old with you. Shed blood to whoever despises our well-being. Constantly argue over insignificant things. Like, forgetting your spicy mustard of example—” Edward cracks a chuckle out of him despite the tears— “I want to grow old with you, Oswald Cobblepot. Please? Please allow me this honor?”

Oswald couldn’t help but constantly sob chokingly, hands slipping away from Edward’s gentle grip, burying his face back into the palms. Only a short moment passes before he cocks his head upward and gazes back at those pleading chocolate brown eyes beaming at him. “Ed, I don’t deserve this,” he admits, heart crumbling with every word he speaks. “I -- I absolutely do not deserve you… N-not after what I did to you!”

“Oswald, we talked about this.” Edward reassures his lover, “I forgive you remember?”

“How -- how could you possibly forgive me? Me! Of all people!“, Oswald snaps before hastily standing to his feet, wiping the uncontrollable tears from his cheeks. He runs his hands through his hair while pacing through the room. The paranoia makes him a little dizzy. “I killed her, Ed.” He stops to face the Riddler. “Me! I did it!”, he roars and continues the pacing. “I couldn’t -- couldn’t leave you alone! I couldn’t let you be happy and look what it did to you. What I did to you. What we did to each other.” Oswald laughs lightly, hands trembling with anxiety before facing back to Edward again. “Even if I say yes, what then? You have to deal with—” wildly gestures to himself— “this! I’m p-paranoid, short tempered, not to mention u-unreasonable. I can’t let you deal with such a horrifying mess!”

“Oswald…” Edward paces to his penguin and grabs him by the shoulders, stopping his frantic motion. “I forgave you, Oswald.” He gazes with sincerity into Oswald’s eyes. “I did more than just that. I gave you my heart and I want you to keep it.” He wipes the tears from his lover’s reddened freckled cheek. “I love this horrific mess,” he chuckles lightly. “I’m a horrific mess too, but we’re at our best when we’re together and I want you to always be with me, Os…. I love you…. I love you more than I ever loved anyone. You’re my best friend and I want you to be my husband.”

“But, Edward—” he sniffs through his nose, eyes glistening with tears— “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Edward wishes he could take all of Oswald’s self-doubt away. He wants him to feel confident and loved. The Riddler knows the little bird is a better man than he thinks.

Oswald takes pause before finally confessing, “That I might hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Oswald.” Edward pulls him closer. “You’ve done nothing but make me feel good since we’ve been together. You haven’t hurt me so far.”

“I—” Oswald takes a rattled breath— “I guess not.”

“The only way you can hurt me is if you say no to marrying me.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you again, Ed,” he says, shaking his head from left to right, clenching on desperately to Edward’s lapel. Edward’s words have buried themselves deeply within Oswald’s heart, knowing that his life would never be the same without his riddle-man. He could sense how much Edward loves him just from the tone of his voice.

“Then say, yes,” Edward implores.

Oswald cuts his eyes away for an instant. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He tips his head slightly to the right. Does this vague reply mean what he hopes?

The Penguin faces Edward, beaming with a luminescent smile the other man never thought he’d see tonight. “Yes, Edward Nygma, I’ll marry you.”

Edward smiles, holding back the tears of joy burning in his eyes, and lurches down, vigorously pressing his lips to Oswald’s. So warm. So welcoming. He can't believe he finally said yes and absolutely meant it. “Thank you, Oswald,” he muttered between kisses. “You've made me overwhelmingly happy.” He turns to the table and removes the ring from the box, then slips it over its rightful place on Oswald’s left hand. They share a moment of pause, gazing at the ring, then Oswald suddenly kisses his riddle-man on the lips, taking Edward completely by surprise.

“Mmm…”, Oswald vibrates against his lover's lips, pressing up into Edward's firm grip and his hot moistened mouth. Every kiss with Edward was always  _ so good _ to Mr. Cobblepot, but yet, he couldn’t help but have another thought pop into his mind and he pulls away for a moment leaving his riddle-man feeling at a loss.

“What is it, Oswald?” Edward nuzzles his lover’s cheek longingly.

He glares at the closed closet door, scratching the short brunette hairs on the back of Edward's head. “We should kill  _ it _ first,” Oswald breathes, snaking his hand around and up against Edward’s throat, knowing how much that set him off. “I always wanted to try murder as foreplay—” his grip slowly tightens and the gleam in his eyes growing a little darker— “back when we had our first conversations, and of course, now. We should bond our engagement with blood.”

Edward smirks, his hands clutching his fiance’s hips, resting his brow upon Oswald's. Hoping, just hoping, that the hand around his neck constricts a little more, but it never does. “Anything you want.” He lowers his beloved’s hand and strolls over to the triangularly shaped closet door. He opens the door and rolls the tied up man back out, as Oswald feels a wave of nostalgia wash over him yet again.

This time, they will draw things out a little slower and torture their man a bit longer before killing him. And after he lays lifeless and draining, they'll fuck it out while covered in the poor man’s blood.

The thought alone gave Oswald jitters in his stomach. His fingers twitched at his sides and he felt his own lips curve up into a menacing smile. “Edward, my dear, Edward…. This is much needed,” Oswald states, nearly snarling through his teeth, knowing praise makes Edward extremely happy.

“That’s exactly why I did it.” The Riddler smirks and pulls a knife from his sock. “I brought you one if you didn’t…” Just before he could finish his sentence, Oswald pulls a dagger from his coat pocket and Edward's smile widens. “Never mind.”

“How do you want to play around, Ed?” Oswald asks, eyeing the stout man in the seat, flailing and groaning for help. It was music to the mobster’s ears.

Without warning, Edward rammed his own knife down into the man’s hand, never holding anything back, as a sinister laughter flowed from his lips.

A shiver ran down Oswald’s spine as he heard the man’s blood-curdling scream attached to the stab.

Edward then ripped the knife back out, just as quickly as he jammed it in, droplets of blood flying from the amateur’s wound.

Oswald’s cheeks were already flushed red by the time Edward turned back to him. He doesn't know if he can last until they killed the unfortunate sap before he suddenly jumps, Edward Nygma’s, bones. His hands shook as he tried to grip the knife firmly, fighting off the urge to cup Edward's sack.

“Your move, Mr. Penguin,” the Riddler whispers as if daring Oswald to wind him up, get him  _ worked up _ too.

Oh, and Oswald will show him how it’s done; he will show Edward just how i _ nteresting _ the art of the knife play could be.

Oswald takes his knife and slowly runs the blade down his victims gray button down shirt. “You have a better style than it does, Ed,” he says, wielding the sharp blade to cut through all the man’s buttons and the small plastic disks fly off to the floor.

“You really think so, Os?”, Edward asks, devouring every move his future husband is making. He’s the sexiest when there’s a primal rage coursing through him.

“Of course I do—” he rests the tip of the knife on the man’s bare chest— “and you have a better body.” The tied man’s smothered weeping doesn't stop Oswald from doing what he yearns to accomplish next. The Penguin stands over the helpless man and suddenly takes hold of his right nipple, pulling away the flesh, and slip his blade through the warm skin. Blood floods from the open wound like a waterfall, as the newly engaged couple, savor the current of the crimson stream flowing down the man’s hairy chest, and they indulge in a symphony of cries seeping from the brown burlap sack around their victim's head.

“That’s actually quite beautiful, Oswald.” Edward stands behind his lover, planting his hands on his hips, resting his chin on his fiance’s shoulder in awe of the work of a pro.

“I knew you’d like it.” Oswald tossed the severed nipple at the man and it bounces off of him, then he wipes the blade clean on the horrified man’s gray, and now red, torn button down shirt. “I think its praying.”

“I hope it is.”

“Praying won’t help it,” Oswald adds with a scoff. Edward smiles as he watches Oswald slice the other nipple off with satisfying precision and another few screams vibrate the windows of the loft. “Now it looks even.” Flicks the nipple to the floor.

Edward grips his own knife in his hand and reared up on the man, twirling the weapon in between his fingers, attempting to figure out what to do next. A devious thought runs through his mind. Why not make his new fiance jealous? Just a little bit, he knew how much that churned Oswald’s stomach and it made him go wild.

The Riddler idly sits on the man’s lap, barely turning back to see Oswald’s reaction even though he really wants to. He tips their victim’s chin up with his knife, licking specks of blood from his neck, ever so slightly grinding his hips against the thrashing man’s lap. Oswald’s breath hitched from behind him, the Riddle-man knew this was working. He turned slightly, feeling the tied man’s heavy and sporadic breathing from underneath him. The scene was rather unsightly, but it faintly reminded Edward of what it felt like to have Oswald positioned like that underneath him, even the sensation between his thighs was the same. It all helped him gain more motivation to quickly get on with the torture.

Edward then reaches down to where the man’s hands are strapped to the armrests with rope. He curled his fingers around him, feeling the victim’s firm grip. Edward then slowly turns so he could look Oswald in the eyes. What an alluring sight.

There were flames burning in Oswald’s eyes. The knife that once adorned his hand has dropped to the floor for who knows how long, the tip digging into the old cheap wood.

The Riddler started to smile at the sight of his mildly disheveled fiancé. What a fucking wreck he's made of him. Edward grips the man’s hand harder, almost enough to break his fingers, and their victim howls. Edward wants nothing more than to order the man to ‘shut the fuck up,’ but he doesn't break eye contact with Oswald, gazing at his betrothed is far more important. He draws his knife over to where he held his victim’s hand in place and hovers it over one of the strained fingers. Edward beams, still leering at his fiance, as he began lopping off the fingers with delicate precision. One, two, three, four… and then five. Edward was no longer holding the man’s hand, but just his palm which is bleeding profusely.

Edward flicked his own hand which was covered in blood as if he was trying to dry it from washing. Blood splatters on the floorboard. He grapples onto the man's shoulders and rolls his hips again, but this time, he rides him just a little faster all to egg Oswald on even more. “Ah….”, he moans, as his head falls back. “I don't know about this thing in the chair, but I'm getting hard.”

“Why’d you have to do that, Ed?” Oswald steps closer, eyes fixed on his lover’s thrusting body, visions of taking the man-in-the-chair’s life flashing before his eyes. “You know how seeing you with another makes me feel.”

“I do know.” Edward stands to his feet and pulls Oswald into him with his bloody palm. He presses their lips firmly together, stealing away his breath. “That's why I did it,” he exhales upon his lips and draws him back in for another passionate kiss. Edward forces his tongue inside Oswald’s warm mouth, sharing the taste of blood. His hands slide down the front of his lover’s pin-striped suit jacket and he loosens the buttons.

Oswald slips his arms out of the fabric, allowing the jacket to slump to the spattered floor. “Oh, Ed….”, he moans between kisses, still feeling anxious about putting their victim out of its misery. “It's my turn, isn't it?”

“Yes, my love—” he plants his hands on Oswald’s cheeks, spreading fresh blood on his skin— “unless you want me to go again.”

“Why would I want that?” He quickly removes his 9 millimeter from the front holster and pulls out of Edward’s loving touch, gimping back to the one-handed man tied to the chair. “I should shoot its dick off.” He cocks the gun and point at the man’s groin.

Edward hastily steps in to stop him. “No… No… Oswald—” puts his hand over Oswald’s gripping to the loaded gun— “I don't think we should use gunfire.”

The Penguin lowers the pistol, hating that Edward is right. This could draw attention to their activities in the loft. “Fine,” he says and hits the man with the gun instead.

“Thank you, Oswald,” the Riddler whispers before kissing his lover on his blood stained cheek. “It’s still your turn if it makes you feel better,” he adds.

“That does make me feel better.”

Oswald tilts his head at Edward and then back at their victim, thinking about his new fiancé grinding against that thing in the chair. The meat bag didn’t deserve Edward’s body, not at all. He didn't even deserve the mercy he's about to bestow upon him.

A wave of rage and jealousy washes over Oswald as he grabs his knife from the floor and plunges it into the man’s stomach, just barely above his pelvis, where Oswald knew a knife would hurt most.

It was always the stomach, where it was excruciatingly painful.

The man was barely conscious enough to even stifle a groan, as Oswald rests the knee of his broken leg between his victim’s thighs and grabbed him roughly by the sack covering his face, pulling his head back. Oswald takes in the pathetic, ghastly, sight of a man before him, digging his knee deeper into his crotch. How dare he have the pleasure of Edward on his lap. He positions his blade under the man's neck and slashes his flesh wide open.

Blood spurted from the gaping crevices, as the man thrushes and chokes on his own blood.

Speckles fly across and land on Oswald's cheeks and neck, showering him in beads of rubies. It all stains his clothes, but he didn’t care, it's worth ruining a suit to entertain Mr. Nygma. He breathes heavily watching their victim leak from the neck and suddenly feels a presence from behind him.

Edward pulls Oswald off of the dead man by his waist and brings their bodies together like matching puzzle pieces, grinding his harden bulge between the crack of Oswald’s ass.

Now comes the really exciting part.

Edward growls biting and licking at his little birdie’s neck, dry humping him from behind. “You taste amazing,” he muttered against his freckled skin.

“I think you meant  _ that _ tastes amazing,” Oswald waved the dagger in the direction of their cut-throat victim. He throws the knife and it lands in the middle of the man’s chest with an obscene succulent noise.

“Ha!” Edward guffawed. Oswald’s spontaneous act took him out of the moment for an instant and he couldn’t help but find amusement in the cartoon-like display. When Oswald brings his hand to cup the back of Edward's neck, the Riddle-man’s sexual urges return. They never truly left. He scoops up his little bird and throws him on the bed violently.

Oswald's body bounces in the springy mattress as he scoots himself to the head of the bed, Edward immediately follows suit.

The taller man looms over the charcoal-haired man and then crawls above his torso to start ripping off his shirt in a lusty haze.

Oswald leaned his head back as his fiancé’s hands quickly worked down. He felt ecstatic and high on the kill and on sex. He needed Edward  _ now _ , right the fuck now!

The pillow beneath Oswald's head reminded him of the time Edward had saved him, and he had given this stranger his childhood story about him and his mother. He remembered Edward sleeping in the same bed with him those years ago, and he had no idea that the man next to him would someday be the future love of his life. His future fiance. His future husband.

“Ed, please, oh god.” Oswald moaned as the Riddler took his length in his hand. He had somehow disrobed Oswald completely in a matter of seconds.

“Please, what?” Edward sneers, stroking slowly, letting the blood of the dead man slide up and down Oswald’s shaft messily, rolling the foreskin over his blushing tip.

“Please let me fuck you.”

“That's what I thought you'd say—” he jacks Oswald manhood faster with a twist in his wrist— “because I prepared for you just before you entered the loft tonight.”

“Uh…. Uh….”, the Penguin grunts, barely holding on to his self-control. “You thought of everything.”

“I want to make you happy, Oswald.” He leans into him, kissing his stained bruised lips, messily reaching over to the nightstand drawer and removes a small bottle of lube he stashed inside. “That’s all I want to do for the rest of my life,” he adds, sitting up on his knees and taking off his own clothing.

Oswald watches him strip with bated breath, keeping himself on edge. He takes his pre-cum and blood soaked hand and smears it across Edward's hairless chest. “You didn't have enough Leonard on you.”

“I don't think its name was Leonard, babe.” He tosses his garments to the floor, kicking off his shoes.

“It was mine—” he forces his blood-spackled thumb between Edward's lips— “you gave it to me—” stretches the corner of his mouth— “and I named it Leonard.”

The Riddler envelops his soft lips over his lover's thumb, swirling his tongue around the digit before slowly removing it. “You're right.” He licks his lips, leering at Oswald with an insatiable hunger gleaming in his eye.  “You can name it anything you want.”

“I know I can,” Oswald responds. “Now…” He flips them over, gaining a beastly confidence.

Edward grunts in satisfaction as his bird ran his hands over his now bare body.

“You look so delicious,” Oswald whispers. “I love your body, I love everything about you. You have the best eyes, and legs, and arms, and  _ brain _ .”

The Riddler groans even louder, bucking up against Oswald, unable to handle the sudden abundance of praise.

Oswald takes the lube from where it was thrown on the bed sheets and coats his own member and then his hands. He inserts two fingers into his beloved Edward, and then three. He had prepared himself like he promised.

Edward arches his back, clutching his muscle around his lover's fingers. “Oh, fuck!” He cries, as his birdie repeatedly penetrates his prostrate. “Ah…. Ah!” He can feel himself stretching.

Oswald lurches down to lick up his torso to the top of his chest, tasting the mix of blood and sex he smeared on his future husband. “I can taste myself on you,” he says, removing his fingers from Edward's throbbing hole and licks them to savor the flavor of his riddle-man. “Mmm….” His body shivers. He then lines himself up against his partner, brushing the tip of his rigid cock over the brim of Edward greedy opening, teasingly biting along his jaw. Though he wants to push his full length completely within Edward's warm slick walls, he thinks it's better to tease him first.

Edward shuddered gripping against Oswald’s shoulder blades for purchase and digging his nails into his soft pale skin.

Oswald hissed at the sharp sensation and stole his lips fiercely on his love’s. “Do you want me?” he questioned breathily.

Edward grunted a simple answer. “Yes.”

“Show me how much,” Oswald ordered, rocking his hips lightly and daring.

Edward scrapes his nails down Oswald’s back, rolling his hips desperately trying to ease more of his lover inside him. “I want you so much, Os,” he groans thickly. “I -- I need you to fuck me.”

“Beg for it.” Oswald removes his cock. Edward doesn't deserve the satisfaction of the tip inside him just yet. He needs to work for the honor after what he did on their toy’s lap.

Edward grabs Oswald by the hairs on the back of his neck and roughly draws him into his lips, kissing his fiance zealously, then breaks their connection abruptly. “Please—” Edward licks the tip of Oswald pointed nose all the way up to the bridge— “fuck me, Oswald.” He wraps his legs around his beloved's waist, keeping his lover close.

The Penguin strokes himself, spreading pre-cum and lube over his shaft and guides his cock back to Edward relaxed pucker. He thinks the Riddler has earned back the sensation of the head of his cock ever so slightly pushed inside of him, but not the full length. Though they’re only back to where they started, he can still feel Edward’s body trembling for more. Begging and yearning with great anticipation, “Say, please, Mr. Penguin,” he demands and further rewards his riddle-man with his tongue brushed across his nose as well. The taste of their victims dried blood still send his heartbeat skyrocketing.

Edward’s fingers dig even deeper into Oswald’s flesh. He loves to be the one to tease and witness the expressions of sensual torture on his little birdie’s face, but to be on the receiving end of the torment can be too much to bare. “P-p-please,” he stammers, the painful throbbing of his cock increases with every passing moment. “Please, fuck me, Mr. Penguin.”

Oswald leers down at the quivering waste his lover has become and removes his cock once again. “No,” he snarls with a fiendish grin.

The Riddler can no longer take this endless game of sexual deprivation and uses all of his strength to switch their positions, putting himself in the dominant stance.

“Mr. Nygma!” Oswald yelps, shocked by the sudden change.

“I couldn't take it anymore.” He sits up, driving his partner's cock deep within him. “Ah!” His body shivers with the release of finally having Oswald's thickness inside his ass.

“You didn't earn that,” Oswald teases. He doesn't really mind that Edward took back some control, but a bit annoyed that his game was cut short.

“Well, I took it.” He lays his hands flat on Oswald bare chest and grinds against his lover’s cock.

Oswald’s eyes roll back and he forgets for a moment where he is. God, they were in Edward’s shabby apartment. They were where it all started, but instead of a cold night where Oswald quietly talks about his mother and hides underneath the scratchy sheets wearing the taller man’s pajamas, here, he is with Edward Nygma grinding against him, making electricity. “Oh…. Fuck…. Ed….”, Oswald pants as Edward clenches his muscle around his cock.

The Penguin allows the Riddler to climb onto his lap more comfortably and he starts rocking into him hard and slow. “Mmm…. Mmm…”, he hums blissfully, clawing into Oswald’s chest. “You like that?”

“You know I do.” Oswald grips Edward’s hip, keeping him anchored as he rides him faster.

Edward's hard cock and balls smack between both men’s flesh with each pounce he takes. He reaches behind him and takes Oswald's heavy sack in his hand, massaging them in his warm sticky palm. “I -- I love… Feeling you -- you inside me…. Os….”, he forces out sporadically, heart hammering, skin blushing fuchsia.

Oswald can't muster up a reply. He bends his knees so that his feet lay flat on the bed to gain more leverage to fuck Edward deeper. “Uh… Uh….,” he grunts with each powerful buck of his hips. The Penguin removes his right hand from Edward’s waist and slips it down to wrap his fingers around his riddle-man’s flopping stiffness. He strokes Edward’s cock from hilt to blushing tip, imagining his fiancé's release splattering his blood stained chest. “Fuck!”, he roars.

Edward leans into Oswald draping his arms around his lover’s neck and the little bird paces himself, slowing things down to a smoother ride. “Yes, please, I love you.” He kept muttering a bundle of loose phrases into Oswald’s ear, squeezing him in an embrace, slowly rocking on the Penguin’s dick.

Oswald rammed into him a little harder, beginning to pick up the pace. He doesn't mind taking things slowly, but tonight's kill has him so worked up.

Edward gasped by his lover's vigorous speed, dipping his nails into his fiance’s shoulders, body coiling with pressure. “I’ve -- I've…..” His hollowed breathing makes it hard for him to speak. “B-b-been thinking about this all -- all day,” Edward finally manages to say.

Oswald has no idea how he could think or speak coherently. His mind and body are clouded with erotic pleasure, but he’s miraculously able to exhale a reply. “Think -- think about  _ this _ ,” The Penguin’s hands move slowly down Edward's back, scratching his manicured nails down his spine, but he doesn't break the skin. He grabs hold to the Riddler’s ass and separates his cheek, stretching his hole further, repeatedly driving his cock in and out of the wider opening.

Edward whimpers, “Ah… Ah… Oh…” Never felt stretched so thin. God!, what a sensation. His slips his right hand between their sweaty, bloody, overheated bodies to bring more pleasure to his pulsating manhood.

Oswald pauses for a moment to take in the gorgeous sight of his disheveled fiancé, breathing and panting on top of him. What an honor to be the only person in the world to witness Edward Nygma rendered helplessly vulnerable. He cups his lover’s face and turns him to gaze into his eyes, the pure ecstasy sparking in them nearly stops his heart. Oswald kisses Edward’s soft damp lips, savoring the taste of his hot breath.

Edward breaks away from his loving embrace and suddenly sits up. “Don't stop fucking me now or you’ll pay.” He squeezed his member between his thighs and Oswald groaned, bucking up into his riddler, pushing against his prostate entirely. Edward shouted to the feeling, slamming himself down onto his fiance, again and again, trying to regain the erotic sensation.

“Why would I ever?” Oswald breaths heavily, arching his back in the mattress.

“I -- I have no idea.” Edward stroked Oswald’s hair, messing it up entirely, and getting it slightly damp with blood and other bodily fluids. He fists his hands in his dark locks, involuntarily tugging. “S-shit.” His body ripples uncontrollably, fighting off the urge to cum. Oswald’s cock feels so good abusing his ass, he's not ready for it to all end. Not yet. Not just fucking yet.

Oswald is close. He can feel Edward's release drawing closer as well. His lover’s muscles are so tight and he can feel every spasm coursing over his skin. The Penguin’s thrusts start to falter, so he increased his pace. He knows Edward his holding off from cumming, but he doesn't know how much longer he can last. His arms shake slightly against Edward’s back as he endlessly bounces on top of him.

The Riddler tips forward into Oswald and whimpers against his shoulder, “I’m so close, Os.” His humid breath tickles his partner's flesh.

Oswald grabs him by his shoulders and pushes him up and quickly uses every bit of his strength to flip his fiancé over, who outweighs his petite frame, but he can still overpower Edward when it's needed. He pushes his riddler down into the mattress, sitting up on his knees drilling his thickness balls deep into his throbbing hole. He lifts Edward’s right leg up to rest on his shoulder as he rams into him over and over and over again, kissing and sucking at his flexing calf muscle.

Edward cried out at the new position, eyes closed tightly, but he was clearly seeing a kaleidoscope of colors behind his eyelids.

“Cum for me,” Oswald ordered simply between breaths.

Edward’s chest heaved up and down as he gripped helplessly at the blankets beneath him.

“Fucking cum for me!”, he demands. The Penguin reaches down to grip his Riddler’s member again and his partner groans.

“Oh… Oswald… Fuck!” An undeniable pulsation develops at the base of Edward’s shaft, signaling his imminent climax. Edward’s cock twitches in Oswald's grip, expelling a thick steady stream of cum, saturating his lover’s hand and his own stomach.

Witnessing Edward’s face filling with ecstasy causes Oswald to fall over the edge as well. He thrusts within the Riddler's ass several more times before filling him completely with his heavy load. “God… Dammit… Ed!” His body quivers with a rapture of delight, riding out the waves of his powerful orgasm.

Edward moans, desperately catching his breath, slightly disoriented. “Os…” He blinks, reaching up for his lover, ass oozing with cum.

Oswald falls into his arms, cock slipping out, and they hold each other, coming down from their high together.

Edward is going to marry this man and he can't wait to spend every day like this.

Oswald twirled a finger around the Riddler’s chest, which was still lightly covered in blood. “I love you so damn much.” He kisses his sweaty skin and gazes up at his beloved, still in disbelief that they’ll become husbands.

“I love you too, my dearest Penguin,” Edward kisses his fiance’s nose and tightens his arms around him.

They hold each other in their sex and blood stained bed, the peculiar aura of murder and love cloud the entire loft. They lay peacefully, listening to the breathing and the rhythm of their heartbeats, slowly drifting to sleep.  

 

* * *

## 

Edward files papers a little more giddy than usual. He’s getting married in a few days and he won't allow anything to get him down. Then it happened, something was, in fact, trying to spoil his mood.

“Edward Nygma…”

Edward turns around, not remotely surprised that he instantly recognized the screeching voice that just spat his name. The trio of Butch, Tabitha, and elegantly dressed Barbara in the center, were standing in his office. “Can I help you, Mrs. Keane? Mr. Cobblepot is not-”

“Your fiancé—” Barbara reaches over his desk and pokes her finger at his chest— “is publicly addressing your marriage, AGAIN, and must I say it is practically a public affair.”

Oswald and Edward attempted to be discreet and somehow failed. One thing led to another and basically, everyone who was someone got invited to the wedding.

“Shouldn’t you be there, after all, you are one of the spouses,” she continues to say.

Edward rolled his eyes, their presents are completely unwelcomed. “What do you want?”, he asks.

Barbara sighed, “I just simply wanted to say we are attending the wedding and that all the bad water between us is under the bridge from your whole double-cross fiasco when we were getting justice for your lady friend.”

Butch frowned. “Didn’t Penguin murder her, though?”

Edward knew what these idiots were doing. “This is clever, I’ll give you all that.” He smiled and stacked the papers he had into a neat pile and stands up straight with chest puffed out slightly to assert his well-earned dominance. “But you can’t manipulate me. I love Oswald. I know what he did, I’ve forgiven him. I forgave him the moment I realized I couldn’t kill him, then again you all know this.”

Barbara scoffed. “Please. As if there isn’t a part of you that wants to get at his throat and rip him limb from limb because of what he did to your precious Isabelle.”

“Isabell-a!”, he corrects her. “And no. There is no part of me that wants that.” He steps from behind the desk and pushes past the trio, heading to the door. He heard them muttering behind him and he turns back to face them. “Is there anything else you cretins need?”, he sneers.

“No,” Barbara replied sharply. 

Edward simply leaves it at that and exits the office. He still has wedding preparations to attend to. He and Oswald had to choose the wine to have at their wedding and sample cakes.

 

* * *

“No. Ugh! No… no! This simply won’t do!”, Oswald grunts as his grip tighten on the bottles of wine in his hands. “It can’t be this difficult.”

“Well, picking wine is not exactly easy, especially for your own wedding, but hey! It’s more than normal to have wedding fever during preparation.” Victor casually shrugs before looking away in an attempt of a fake cough. “Bridezilla,” he chokes out.

Oswald snaps in his direction with pierced eyes that read ‘I’d kill you if you weren’t such a noble assassin’. The hitman’s lips curl into a grin before raising his hands in surrender.

Edward simply rolls his eyes at Zsasz before placing a kiss on Oswald’s cheek. “Let him be, my dear bird. Perhaps we can make a decision on the wine later and taste some cake samples. The bakers even made you your favoriiite.” Edward sing-song that last sentence playfully with an encouraging wink.

Oswald dissolves into giggles, leaning into Edward and rests his head upon his brow, desiring his deep brown eyes. “And what’s my favvvoorit?”, he says with a twisted grin, batting his long mascara painted lashes.

“Chocolate peanut butter, of course,” Edward answers, knowing that Oswald only asked because he loves seeing how much Edward knows about him. “The baker said she’s never made a chocolate peanut butter wedding cake and that it was an unusual request.”

“Good.” Oswald places his hand on the Riddler’s thigh, pressing their lips passionately together. He could no longer hold back the craving for his taste.

“Mmm….” Edward moans sweetly, cupping the back of Oswald’s neck, gently scratching his flesh.

Oswald consumes his lover’s lips like they’re the only two people in the room, scooting closer to his fiancé on the couch.

Zsasz watches with hearts gleaming in his eyes, never having an issue with public displays of affection. Especially with his boss.

The Penguin fists his hands in Edward’s hair, straddling on his lap.

“Ummm…. Guys?” The fearless assassin anxiously cuts his eyes back and forth. Maybe they’re taking this a bit too far.

“Oh, Ed, I love you,” Oswald whispers upon his lips, grinding his hips against his future husband’s lap.

“Uhh….”, Edward grunts thickly. His voice a lot deeper than moments before. “Os….” The riddle-man fills his hands with Oswald’s ass. Both of them devoured in the heat of the moment, forgetting the reality around them.

Zsasz glances over to the lobby of the bakery and then at his watch. This was gonna be a long night. The door of the bakery opened with the weird sing-songy wind chimes. A man in a black ski mask entered, waved his AK 47 gently at the register, causing the cashier to rush out of the store. Zsasz pulled out his gun and kicked Oswald off of Edward.

Oswald hit the floor with a puzzled look, staggering while getting up. “Get to the car, it’s out back!”

Wind chime rings again, followed by the screeching of police sirens, then the voice of the infamous Jim Gordon. “This is the GCPD! Drop your weapon!”

Edwards and Oswald rush to the kitchen, gunfire ringing behind them. “Is Zsasz gonna be alright?”, Edward asks, clutching Oswald from behind the counter.

“Oh for sure,” Penguin murmured and they make their escape outside through the back door of the kitchen, running into and unsightly, but familiar presence.“Harvey?” Oswald was stupefied. He hadn’t seen Bullock in months. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting him to accompany the GCPD, but his face was still a surprise nonetheless. He watches as his fiance took a cautious step in front of him protectively. Oswald appreciated it deeply, but he knew he wouldn’t need this protection with such a lazy, stout, detective in their front.

“Wow. Look at you. Every time I see you, you seem to be one more step ahead than you were before. One of these days you’re gonna have to crash and burn aren’t you?” Harvey smiled when he saw Oswald’s grimace and he switches his gaze to Edward. “You gonna bring him down with you? I wouldn’t complain if you did. I’m not exactly a fan. I’m sure he’s an honorable chief of staff, though,” he laughs.

“Chief of staff and  _ fiance _ ,” Oswald corrected, with a sassy snap of his neck.

Harvey’s eyes bulged and his eyes flicker between the two men. It seemed he hadn’t checked the news recently. Perhaps he didn’t even watch the news at all. “No way,” Harvey muttered quietly, trying to gather his thoughts again, but quickly get over the shock. “Any-who, I’m not here to arrest you.”

Edward and Oswald exchanged confused gazes at each other, before glancing back at Harvey. If Harvey weren’t here for an arrest, then what was it about? Was it really necessary to bring the whole GCPD with him? It doesn’t make any sense.“Is this some kind of joke? interrupting in our wedding preparations?!” The Riddler noses flare with eyes pierced with anger towards Harvey, jabbing a finger in his chest. “If you were here to pay a visit, you could’ve just, I don’t know, knock the front door?!”

“You better choose your words carefully if you don’t want my fist to meet your face, Nygma. I didn’t even know you two were getting married,” Harvey snaps at him, causing Oswald to grunt under his breath, needing a confrontation too but was interrupted by Edward’s arm, backing his bird away protectively. “Now that you finally quiet down, now I’m sorry for having to go at you by surprise, however, we were taking such precautions because of Jerome on the loose, aaand you being Mayor and The Chief of Staff, we needed to…assure... your safety.” The detective finds his hard to mutter to that last word.

“Well, your barbaric methods were out of line,” Oswald snaps, still standing behind Edward protectively holding him back.

“Geesh—” Harvey throws his hands dismissively in the air— “I apologize for any inconvenience, but I would assume you were used to the sound of gunfire.”

Oswald’s eyes widen and he lunges forward in fury. “Do you have any idea….”, he babbles on, giving the cop the full wrath of his anger.

Edward quickly turns and holds his hot-tempered fiancé back, keeping him from getting his hands on the disrespectful cop. “Shhh….”, he hisses, resting a finger on his lover’s lips. “He’s just trying to rile you up.”

“Well, it’s working!”, Oswald barks. “They could have killed us. They could have killed you!” He tries to push his way past Edward, desperate to tightly wrap his hands around the cop’s thick throat and watch the light in his eyes fade into oblivion. No one shoots at the Mayor’s true love.

Edward usually adores to see his future husband ready to snap a neck, but it’s just days before their wedding and he knows Harvey is waiting for a reason to drag Oswald down to the GCPD. They’ll probably keep him at the station long enough to miss his wedding day. The Riddler swiftly reacts and does what he can to keep his boyfriend from being whisked off to jail. He takes his lover’s face in his hands and kisses him intensely. It’s the only thing (he knew that would be 100% effective) he could think of doing to pry Oswald’s attention from killing the policeman.

Oswald’s breath is stolen by the sudden kiss and breaks away for a split second to take in some air before reconnecting his lips to his beloved Edward. He melds into his taste, feeling the aggression draining from his body, being replaced with his riddle-man’s love. “Oh, Ed….”, he sighs blissfully, draping his arms around Edward’s neck, standing on his tippy-toes. He slips his tongue between his lips, indulging in the warmth of the taller man’s mouth.

“Jesus, guys,” Harvey gripes with disgust, shielding his eyes from the scene. “Get a room.”

Oswald gently pulls out of the kiss, gazing into Edward’s gorgeous brown eyes. He still can’t believe he’ll be waking up next to this man for the rest of his life. What an honor to be wanted and loved in such a way. He never foresaw this transition in life ever happening to him. The Penguin takes Edward by the hand, feeling a lot calmer than moments ago, and takes a step closer to the cop.

Edward knows that their kiss has stopped him from any homicidal tendencies and allows Oswald to get in Harvey’s face.

The little bird tips his head slightly to the left, beaming at the doughnut addicted cop with a devious grimace. “We don’t need a room—” a snarky chuckle escapes his lips— “I have a limousine in which to fuck my fiancé.”

The smug expression falls from Harvey’s face. “Oh, God!” He slowly backs away from the men. After witnessing that kiss, the mental imagery of what they’ll do to each other in the back of a limo is all the more clear for Harvey Bullock’s imagination. “I did not need to know that.”

Edward smirks and smacks Oswald on the ass.

“I, also, did not need to see that.” The cop points behind him as he continues to back away. Do these two men have any decency? “I’m gonna go claw my eyes out now.”

Oswald turns back to face Edward, finding his lover staring down at him with a toothy grin. “What?” He shrugs.

“Are we really gonna fuck in the limo?”, he asks, anxiously awaiting the perfect answer from his beloved.

The Penguin’s lips curl into a smile, stepping closer to his future husband. “Of course we are,” he replies, gradually pulling down the knot on the Riddler’s black and green striped tie.

“Can we do it in front of the police station?”

“I love the way you think, Mr. Nygma,” Oswald says with a wink.

 

* * *

Days later, the wedding ceremony for Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot and Edward Nygma was held. Oswald is fixing his cufflinks on his PURE white suit when there's a knock on the door of his private room. "Come in," he murmurs as he looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed his hair. 

Barbara stepped in and closed the door behind her. 

"Mrs. Keane, I suggest-" 

"Relax Penguin, I'm not here to spoil your big day...", she sighed, absently adding, "I was going to get married once too, y'know" She pulled up a chair next to him and grabbed mascara out of her purse. "Hold still, Penguin!" she growled. 

Oswald did as he was told as she started unscrewing the cap. 

 

"I was actually going to be married in this church too." Barbara tilted Oswald's head and started to apply the makeup. "We were going to have a big wedding, have a kid or whatever married couples do." 

The only thing moving on Penguin's face was his lips "You held Jim hostage with Lee Tompkins." 

She nodded, "She was a problem, but she and Valerie Vale hate him now. Jim will take me back...he just needs time." She smiles wickedly and closed the mascara, then pulled out the facial powder. "You're lucky you found a nutso just like you and now you'll have him forever.” 

Oswald didn't feel like he really needed her advice, but it was kind of nice to have her here on his big day. He would never admit that. Oswald let Barbara do a couple more things to his face and she admired her handiwork. 

"Perfect."

 

* * *

  
  
Across the hall at the far end of wedding venue, Edward flinched when Zsasz entered his dressing room. "10 minutes,” he announces 

"O-of course!" Edward stuttered. 

"Are you nervous, Nygma?”

Edward didn't reply. 

“I’m taking your silence as a yes,” Zsasz teased. “I came at the best time then." 

Edward looked at him in his black tux and bit his lip. "I'm fine," he admitted trying to convince himself.

Zsasz scratched the back of his neck, "Ed?" 

The Riddler turned around. 

"He loves you too,” he mumbled not looking at him in the eye. 

Edward smirked and stood up from his chair. “I know that,” he sighs and takes a deep breath, straightening the collar on his tux. He pauses at the door, thinking of how his and Oswald’s life is going to be forever changed. The good and the hard times were well worth this. He finally exits the room, anxious to lay his eyes on his groom.

A lot more people than either of them even knew ended up attending the ceremony. The joining of love and life for two very different people was a joyous day for all who witnessed. Edward and Oswald relished in every waking moment of the happiest day of their lives but waited for the instant to finally be alone together, where they could truly be themselves. Though they are two men broken by the lives they’ve lived and the will of the city of Gotham, they were able to find love through one of the purest ways possible, friendship.

They spend their wedding night still in disbelief that their road through life will always include each other, expressing their love in the most intimate way possible, and binding that connection with the spilling of blood. They take the life of another unfortunate soul, who Edward gave to Oswald as a wedding gift to his new husband.


End file.
